


The Fifth Time

by orphan_account



Category: The Last Five Years (2014), the last five years - Fandom
Genre: F/M, also please don't kill me cathy's hate for country music is hers not my own, and like one swear word, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, oops I did a thing, that came from the original play/movie/soundtrack and I just used as dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, four times they celebrated Cathy's birthday together... and one time they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fifth Time

 

                                Only a couple of weeks after they started dating, Cathy had her twenty- third birthday. While she certainly didn't mind the attention or gifts that came alongwith with June 27th, what she liked most on her birthday was to spend it with those she loved. Everything about Jamie and Cathy's relationship was fast-paced and chaotic and magical, and though she certainly wouldn't dare say this out loud, Cathy already knew that she loved him. She couldn't help it, it felt like she had been waiting her entire life for someone like Jamie, and he was finally here, and now all she wanted to do was be in love with him as fast and hard as she possibly could.

 

                                 "I told you not to get me anything," Cathy smiled up at him in the glinting sunlight, as he fished around in his backpack for the gift he had just promised to present her with. They'd had dinner at her apartment and despite the annoyance of the flickering light above her coffee table ( "You still haven't changed that bulb? It's gonna go out soon," he poked at her side teasingly),  they'd had a lovely time.

 

                                   Afterwards,  they'd decided to take a walk along the beach, and though Cathy hated the fact that her shoes and Jamie's backpack were probably going to be filled with sand until the end of eternity, it was nice. Jamie smiled down at Cathy as he managed to finally grasp the corners of Cathy's present with his hands and deliver it to her.

 

 

                                 "Milady," he wiggled his eyebrows and kissed her on the cheek and Cathy shook her head with a mixture of a little annoyance and a little admiration. Jamie could be such a five year old, sometimes. He handed her the box. It was a rectangular box, wrapped in silverish paper, that had been tied with something that only sort of resembled a black bow. Cathy tried not to let her smile quiver as she felt the weight of the box in her hands. A little guilt tugged at her. Big gifts were for people who had dated for more than three and a half weeks, for people who had already said I love you and were getting serious. It wasn't that she didn't want those things, but it was too soon, even she was well aware of that. He might have spent too much on her...

 

                                   Reluctantly, she unwrapped the gift, trying (and failing) not to destroy the evenly taped wrapping paper too horrribly. Once she opened the lid, Cathy saw the outrageously silly gift and immediately let out a snort. 

 

                                    "You're horrible. That's perfect. You're perfect," Cathy giggled, throwing her arms around Jamie's neck and kissing his lips several times. Meanwhile, the flashlight and the note remained in her hands, gently  pressing into the nape of his neck. The note was hardly legible, due to Jamie's atrocious hand-writing ("aren't you supposed to be a writer or something?"), but for those curious, here is what the note read:

 

_"Cathy Hyatt, you are the light of my life."_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                                       Jamie was late picking her up from the airport, big surprise. Still, she couldn't really complain, considering he had bought her vanilla cupcakes with buttercream frosting. Besides, when he grinned that adorable puppy-dog smile, it was hard to stay annoyed for too long. And anyways, she'd spent the whole day getting her flight delayed and trying not to use the gross airplane bathroom even though she felt nauseous. Her family had demanded that she visit before her birthday. Having a fight was the last thing she wanted to do. Still, she wasn't exactly feeling like rainbows and celebrations right now, so when Jamie took a left turn instead of a right, she couldn't be blamed if there was a tint of 'I'm-going-to-murder-you-in-your- sleep' to her tone. 

 

                                        "Where are we going?" Cathy asked, tapping her foot restlessly to the classic rock that was pretty much in constant play in Jamie's car. She preferred Broadway soundtracks, but honestly, she loved almost any type of music. Except country music. Screw country music. Jamie smirked at her and kept on driving. "Jamie, come on, I just want to go home," Cathy groaned.

 

                            "Oh, come on, where's your sense of adventure?" Jamie laughed, his eyes switching from smiling at her to navigating the road.

 

                                        "Considering your stories usually end up with all of my things strewn about the floor, that's not entirely convincing," Cathy replied, but if she was being honest, she was arguing for the sake of banter more than anything. They drove several more minutes before finally reaching their destination. "Wow. A carwash. Big adventure," she rolled her eyes at him, but smiled. Cathy loved car washes, she had ever since she was a little kid. It was like a ride and there were all of these swirling colors and for even just one minute, she could forget how messed up the world was and just look at the suds. It was enchanting.

 

                            "You're welcome," Jamie said, and though it was probably meant to, it didn't sound sarcastic.

                                          

                                          They began to drive into tunnel filled with what looked like giant feather-dusters, and Cathy, after all of these years, somehow still managed to feel the anticipation of a nine year old girl bubbling up inside of her. Once they were finally inside, Cathy grabbed a cupcake and sniffed the scent of vanilla before taking a bite. Everything was mechanical rain and soap and so, so beautiful. It felt like the kind of thing that you remembered forever. Suddenly, Cathy felt an overwhelming need to capture the pink and white and blue swirls of soap with her camera. When she reached for it and realized she'd left it at the apartment, she was a litle disappointed, but oh well. Next time.

 

                                         Feeling that thing you feel when someone is staring at you, Cathy turned her head and smiled nervously, ducking her head a little. In the past year, they'd had sex plenty of times, moved in together, looked deeply into each other's eyes, and all of that other emotional crap, but she was pretty sure that this was the most vulnerable she'd ever been in front of him.

 

                                        "What?" she asked, and this time, there was a lilting sweetness in her voice. This moment didn't feel cliche, or like they were meeting for the first time or whatever. It just felt good. It felt like things would last. Jamie shrugged.

 

                                       "I love you," and that was really all she needed, wasn't it?

                                       "I love you too," and it felt like a promsie.

                                        Jamie smiled, and kissed her, and then started laughing.

                                       "What?" Cathy asked once more, and the annoyance was back.

                                        "Dude, you have icing all over your face."

 

* * *

 

 

                                        "So, how does it feel to have been married for almost three months, Mrs. Wellerstein?" a woman wearing hoop earrings that a basketball could have been thrown through asked, and Cathy tried not to scrunch her nose at the smell of alcohol on her breath. The woman, who had informed Cathy that her name was Rosetta, worked with Jamie's publishing company. Cathy didn't actually know her, but tried to act hospitable all the same. She had been scanning the crowd for Jamie, or at least a familiar face, but stopped and momentairly blanked at the question, forgetting that 'Mrs. Wellerstein' was her. Shaking her head to snap herself out of it, Cathy grinned. 

                                        

                                        "Yeah, it's great. You know, we love each other so much, And yeah, it was a little hard to adjust at first, but-" she cut herself short when she realized that Rosetta was more interested in sniffing the potted plant by the window. Cathy decided not to inform her that it was plastic. "Excuse me," she said politely, and Rosetta waved goodbye without looking in Cathy's direction. 

 

                                        After several more awkward encounters with Jamie's coworkers and a few sincere moments with her dear friends, Cathy found herself walking toward the bedroom. It wasn't lost on her that most of the people here were more Jamie's friends than hers. Finally, she was alone with him in their room.  She could feel the vibrations of songs that were on the top forty and that she would be shamelessly dancing to right now if she had five more drinks in her and was with her best friend, Emily.

 

                                         "Hey!" Jamie exclaimed, kissing her.

                                          "Hi," she smiled, and tried to stifle a long yawn, to no avail.

                                          "Are you having fun?" he asked, and Cathy was touched by how much he cared.

                                          "Yes, this is... so great! Thank you for planning it."

                                           "Were you surprised?"

 

                          Cathy had received the RSVP letters in the mailbox a week earlier, and decided it would be better to just play dumb.

 

                                          "Totally!"

                                         

                                          After awhile, Jamie went back out, and she told him she would be out in a few minutes. When the door was totally shut, she played with the ring onfinger sliding it on and off.

 

                                            "Cathy Hyatt," she said slowly, trying her best to enunciate.

                                            "Cathy Wellerstein," she said next, and it almost sounded wrong, like the two namesdidn't quite match. She loved being married to Jamie, she did. And she loved that she took his last name, but... sometimes she couldn't help but think that she still felt very much like Cathy Hyatt and not at all like Cathy Wellerstein.

 

                                           Shaking her head, she mentally slapped herself. What was she doing? She was happily married and it felt great. She was going to get back out there, kiss her husband and flaunt her ring like everyone expected her to. She was going to have the time of her life. There was wine to drink and music to dance to and a best friend to find. No time for brooding.

 

                                           Cathy hurried out so hastily, she left her ring lying on the bed, in the room that was getting dimmer by the minute. It took her an hour to find it.

 

 

* * *

 

                                   

                                        

                                       "I wish I could be there with you," Jamie said. "I'm really sorry that I can't."

 

                                        Cathy shrugged, trying not to seem too hurt or disappointed.  

 

                                        "It's fine, I understand," she responded, and only one of those things was a lie.

                                         

                                           The truth was, it wasn't fine, and both of them knew it. They'd been fighting more and more recently, and all Cathy wanted to do was to be with her husband on her birthday, to cuddle up and watch _Les Mis_ for the millionth time. But that wasn't happening. Still, at least they could skype each other, and both had desert foods in front of them (Cathy had ice cream and Jamie had pie), so they decided to call it a celebration.

 

                               "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her with those puppy eyes that had once been enough to make everything okay again.

                       

                                         "I miss you," Cathy's voice trembled, and she could feel the burn of tears in her throat.

 

                                             "Hey, no, don't cry. Uh, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Cathy, my singing realy sucks," Jamie sang his rendition of the birthday song, and it was so off-key that Cathy couldn't help but laugh, and soon there were hiccups. 

 

                                         "I love you,  Jamie," Cathy sniffled.

 

                                              "I love you too, babe," they smiled at each other sadly and then someone called for Jamie. "I have to go. Happy birthday!" he said again, before logging off. Paranoia crept up her body as she exited out of all of her tabs.

 

                             Wiping her tears away with the back of her left hand, Cathy convinced herself that the voice she'd heard hadn't been female.

 

 

* * *

 

                                            

 

 

                                                 "You could stay with your wife on her  _fucking_ birthday," Cathy growled. She'd tried, she'd tried so hard, to believe that they could work things out and that this weekend was when it was gonna happen. But today was her birthday, and he was leaving. Jamie could be there, but he wasn't going to, for the second year in a row. "And you could, god forbid, even see my show."

 

                                                 "Cathy, I wish I could stay, but I can't, okay? I have responsibilities, and there are people expecting things of me!" Cathy wanted to scream. Oh, ofcourse, he couldn't shrug his responsibilities to the girls who he had cheated with or to the company that constantly tore them apart. That special treatment was just for her. 

 

                                                 "And I know in your soul, it must drive you crazy that you won't get to play with your little girlfriends." Jamie grabbed her arm.

                                                

                                                  "You're being crazy!"

 

                                                  "No, I'm not," she said, and he glared at her and reached for her again. "No, I'm not!" she shouted, and it would have sounded louder to her earsif only everything didn't sound underwater right now.  "And the point is Jamie that you can't spend a single day, that's not about you," she knew, even as she said it, that what shewas saying wasn't entirely true, or fair. But she didn't care, and she didn't care that he was sputtering to argue right now either. She just needed to be angry at him. "Isn't he  **wonderful** , just twenty-eight, the savior of   _writing,"_ and oh god, she was horrible, because there it was. She was jealous of him! There was no denying it, and she'd said thewords just so they would hurt, and the normal her, the her that wasn't so bitter and angry and sad all the time would have immediately apologized. But she only stood there, and finally let the tears that had been building up for years fall. He only stood there, arms limp and face unreadable. "I swear to god I'll never understand how you can stand there straight and tall... and see I'm crying... and not doing anything at all." 

 

                                                 Standing there, it occured to Cathy that they were strangers.

                                                    

                                                  They would fix it.  They would have to fix it.

 

 

 

         

                                                   Walking up the cold, stone stairs to their apartment, Cathy didn't anticipate just how empty the apartment was. She opened the door, and knewbetter than to call for another person, but something in the air felt different. She walked to the counter, and set down her purse. Then she went to the bathroom and couldn't remember where she'd left her purse, so she started searching. When she reached the piano, she  saw a a piece of paper laying on the keys and picked it up, hands trembling. No, of course it wouldn't be what she thought it was. It was a grocery list, an apology letter, a birthday card. It was not what she thought it was. So there was no need to read it.

 

                                                   Cathy went to bed, holding the paper close to her chest. And she didn't sleep. At all. Finally, a peek of sun rose out of the ground and washedout daylight was shining through the window, onto her. She looked at the letter. And closed her eyes. Then, she got up, and tried to make some coffee. It would be okay. She'd be okay. It'd be fine.

                                

                                                  Ten minutes later, Cathy collapsed onto the floor, and the sobs came in big, uncontrollabe waves. She contemplated getting up and going back to bed, but this was the type of crying that could only be done on her kitchen floor. Finally, she managed to pick herself up off the ground and sit with her feet pressed together.  She read the letter. Over and over again, she read the letter. She heard something and realized it was her stomach grumbling. Her heart might not go on, but life had to.

                          

                                                  Before going to the pantry, Cathy had to grab a flashlight, because the light had gone out in there months ago and no one had ever changed it. Tracing her fingers on the flashlight, suddenly she realized why it was so familiar. Dropping it, Cathy exited the pantry. She wasn't hungry after all.

 

                                                  Finding her purse on the counter, she pulled out her phone. It was almost dead, considering she hadn't charged it last night. She hadn't looked at her messages since her birthday, almost a week ago. It was filled with messages wishing her a happy birthday. She scrolled until she found Jamie Wellerstein<3 in her

contacts.

             

                                                  _"Happy birthday, Cathy. And goodbye."_

                                                  

 

 

                                

 

 

    

                                     

     

                                        

 

       


End file.
